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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915680">Heir Apparent</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/0neType/pseuds/0neType'>0neType</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Crushes, M/M, Mutual Pining, Undertale Multiverse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:54:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,242</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915680</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/0neType/pseuds/0neType</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cross is absolutely head over heels in love with the Kingdom's beloved Prince; a handsome, bright, energetic young man with a smile that lights up every room he enters.</p><p>Too bad a kidnapping and assassination attempt leads to Cross marrying said Prince's older brother instead.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cream - Relationship, Cross &amp; Nightmare, Cross/Dream, Kight - Relationship, NightKiller - Relationship, Nightmare &amp; Dream, Nightmare/Killer, Sans/Sans (Undertale)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>142</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Heir Apparent</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Birthday Cross!! Finally, I write a fic where the Good Boy™ doesn't suffer!! :D</p><p> </p><p>  <span class="small">...yet. ;)</span><br/></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s an honour to serve in Queen Nim’s court.</p><p>Cross knows this—it’s been drilled into his head for years now. Day after day, training with other nobles aspiring to the position, steeling his nerves against the petty squabbles and the nepotism and focusing solely on honing his talents. His family isn’t old money, not like the countless others he’s looking to overcome, and Cross has had to dedicate himself to coming this far. For his family. For his father.</p><p>Being in Queen Nim’s court is status. It is power. It is a vast land of opportunity that Cross has sweat and bled and cried tears of anger and frustration over to get to. But…</p><p>Now that he’s here, he just can’t get over how <em>pretty </em>the princes are.</p><p>Or, rather, how pretty one of the princes in particular is.</p><p>Prince Dream is regal even while he sits. He’s half-leaning over his chair in the courtyard, overlooking the training grounds. His crown sparkles, unblemished gold swirling at the ends and cupping a sun that shines nowhere near as bright as his smile. His cape settles elegantly on his shoulders, brooches affixing them in place and letting the gathers trail behind him with the thick, expensive material. There’s an excited gleam to his eyelights as he tugs on the sleeve of his brother’s shirt, pointing at one of the instructors as they neatly swipe at two trainees rushing at them. It’s paired with a brilliant flush, keen and eye catching.</p><p>He’s beautiful.</p><p>“Cross,” a voice calls out to him, and he acknowledges it with a hum, but doesn’t stop looking at the center of his affections.</p><p>Prince Dream laughs at something, delighted, and turns once again to relay it to his brother. Cross’ gaze drifts over to Prince Nightmare who, by contrast, looks endlessly bored. He’s not slouched over, not rolling his eyelights or anything so obvious. No, being the Crown Prince means that the elder of the two twins is always a picture of perfect poise. Still, Cross has spent enough time watching the princes from afar to be able to tell the difference between Prince Nightmare’s genuine interest and the bland attentiveness he paints when he’s not really paying attention.</p><p>“<em>Cross</em>.”</p><p>As per usual, the princes are dressed in complement to one another. Whereas Prince Dream is all adorned in the colours of the breaking dawn, Prince Nightmare shimmers in moonlight, even when the morning sky is beaming down on all of them. The expensive violets of his ensemble are as striking as ever, his deep black cape pinned to one shoulder only, leaving the other bare, completed with a sparkling chain of silver that connects each end together.</p><p>He’s still entranced by the twins when the blow strikes him.</p><p>It hits him clean in the chest, taking the wind out of him and knocking him flat on his feet.</p><p>The laughter that follows is muted, but no less humiliating. Cross flushes as the dozen or so knights in the arena around him chuckle at his expense. He almost squeezes his sockets shut against the sound, but is stopped when the frowning face of his dueling partner looks down at him.</p><p>“Stars and spirits, Cross,” the mantis sighs, her antennae twitching, “What have I said about dropping your guard like that?”</p><p>“My apologies, Commander,” Cross says, gruff, pushing himself up to his elbows. He refuses to look in the direction of the princes, afraid of what he might see. He doesn’t think his pining soul could take it if Prince Dream was in on the laughter.</p><p>Commander Othri stretches an arm out towards him and Cross grasps it tight. She pulls and helps him to his feet, and Cross balances himself quickly. The commander tilts her head at him thoughtfully as he brushes himself off and picks his sword up from where it’s fallen on the ground.</p><p>“Maybe you ought to retire for the day.”</p><p>Cross’ head immediately whips in her direction. “What? Commander, no. I’m more than capable of continuing—”</p><p>“You’ve been distracted all morning.” She returns her sword back to its sheath at her hip. The lilting laughter around him seems to get louder and it takes all Cross has not to turn a scathing glare in the direction of the other knights. “I need you focused, Cross. It won’t do to have a knight that can’t keep himself alert in the midst of battle.”</p><p>“It won’t happen again,” Cross insists, but the Commander’s expression remains stern.</p><p>“I’m certain it won’t, because you’ll be using this mandatory withdrawal to think about where you stand as a member of this order. Return to your chambers, Cross. Collect yourself.”</p><p>Cross blanches. That tone leaves no room for argument. He’s been thoroughly dismissed.</p><p>A cascading embarrassment fills him further as the knights around him whisper. He knows they must be gleeful, their true feelings masked behind a respectful facade. Cross is no stranger to the transient nature of his ‘friendships’ with each of his fellow knights. They would sooner castigate him than take his side. What more can he expect from monsters who have known each other for years, when faced with a noble infiltrating their ranks from another kingdom entirely?</p><p>He nods at the Commander and sheathes his own sword, face hot and bones trembling finely.</p><p>He curses himself for slipping.</p><p>Normally, it’s not like him to let his emotions get the best of him when he's training. He’s no infatuated child. He knows that there’s a time and a place for gazing starry-eyed at the unobtainable, and it’s certainly not when he’s in the midst of a training session with his order.</p><p>The problem is that the princes have been gone for weeks—on some sort of annual trip they take with their Queen Mother. During that time, Cross had been training so hard that he’d upped the ranks enough to finally be part of the inner circle of knights, close enough to be part of the prince’s personal guard if called on to perform such a duty. He’d been ecstatic; eager to see the princes again and prove his mettle with their eyes on him.</p><p>But as the days had worn on and the princes remained away, Cross found his pride and excitement slowly dwindling in the drearily daily routine of training.</p><p>Today, the Royal Family had returned home. Today, for the first time ever, he’d been able to see Prince Dream close up instead of at a distance, like he usually did, where he stood at the back lines of the order while Prince Dream sat on the throne directly at his mother’s left. Today, all the feelings he’d pushed down for weeks had resurfaced and, in his excitement, Cross had momentarily forgotten that his whole goal had been to impress the princes with his skills.</p><p>He flinches further as he thinks of his father.</p><p>Gaster will not be pleased with this week’s letter home.</p><p>A hand touches his shoulder.</p><p>Cross whirls around in an instant, twisting his would-be assailant’s arm around.</p><p>And then drops it immediately, a chill shooting down his spine as he realises who exactly he’s assaulted.</p><p>“Y-your Highness,” Cross stammers, abruptly dropping to one knee as Prince Dream rubs at his arm, his expression pained. Cross' soul plummets, a sickening feeling descending upon him. He’s a fool. He’s an utter fuck-up. He’s injured the prince and surely they’ll strip him of his rank for his transgression—all that work to get here, wasted—what will his father say? What will his <em>brother </em>say?</p><p>Gaster was right—Cross really was an emotional fool, letting his feelings get the best of him.</p><p>“My sincerest apologies, I wasn’t—I didn’t see—my attention was elsewhere—”</p><p>“Oh, no, no, it is fine,” the prince laughs, holding up his hands placatingly. His golden gloves catch the sunlight shining through the tall arches of the garden path with a subtle sheen. “I am unharmed.”</p><p>“Nevertheless, my actions were inexcusable—”</p><p>“Sir Cross, please, stand up,” Prince Dream interrupts, and Cross startles, wordless as he hears his name slip from the Prince’s mouth. His soul skips a beat. His body warms at the knowledge that the prince <em>himself </em>knows who he is; and by <em>name </em>no less.</p><p>He stands, slow and unhurried. Prince Dream smiles at him as he does so and Cross has to resist the urge to beam right back at him.</p><p>“Think nothing of it. Please. It is truly my own mistake. I should have announced myself when approaching you, but I was…” Here, the prince looks sheepish, and his expression is so endearing that Cross can’t help but smile ever so slightly. “I was trying to sneak away from my guards, so I did not want to accidentally alert them by saying anything to you too soon.”</p><p>“Sneak away…?” Cross repeats, confused. He’s in no place to ask questions of royalty, but Prince Dream hears his puzzled tone and flushes. Cross warms further, the colour of the prince’s magic burning along his cheekbones a pretty picture that he can’t help but adore, even when he’s trying hard to mind himself.</p><p>“Yes, I…” Prince Dream clasps his hands together, rocking back on his heels a little before he catches himself and straightens his posture. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”</p><p>“Me, Your Highness?”</p><p>Prince Dream’s blush darkens a little further and for a moment, an absurd moment, Cross entertains the notion that maybe the prince has taken a liking to him.</p><p>“You’re new!” Prince Dream blurts, his formal tone slipping just a touch. “You… you’re from another Kingdom. It’s important to treat our allies well, and I saw the difficulties you’ve been having with the other knights and so… pairing that with the scene during training, I grew worried. I was hoping to encourage you. It. Would be a terrible loss for the futures of both our Kingdoms if our burgeoning alliance was cut short due to something as small as a training mishap.”</p><p>The prince was simply here to perform his duties. Of course. </p><p>Cross admonishes himself for thinking otherwise. Hasn’t his fantasizing gotten him into enough trouble today? He’s starting to think that maybe the Commander had the right idea when she told him to take the day to reflect. He’s too excitable, seeing the royals he’s sworn himself to again after so long. He needs to settle his nerves and come back with his wits about him.</p><p>“You are too kind, Your Highness.” Cross dips his head in respect. “As a knight bound to serve you, I feel humbled by your care. To have made you worry for someone as insignificant as myself, you have my sincerest regrets.”</p><p>“Don’t say that,” Prince Dream whispers, and again Cross startles. This time, it’s because of the emotion in the prince's voice. Cross looks at him, eye-to-eye, and sees a distant stare in them, unlike anything he’s ever seen before. “In truth, no one is ever insignificant.”</p><p>“I…” Cross starts, only to be cut off by the sound of rushing footsteps, armoured feet clanging against the stone footpath among the grass..</p><p>“Prince Dream!” Calls the voice of a knight that Cross recognises.</p><p>Sure enough, Jere rushes into the hall, a hand on his sword and several other knights behind him. The rest he doesn’t know well enough to place a name to, but it’s unimportant. They don’t stand out anyways, fading into the background as Jere leads and they follow.</p><p>As he comes to a stop in front of the prince, Jere throws Cross a suspicious look. Cross raises a browbone at him. He’s not looking to make enemies, but Jere has always touched a nerve Cross didn’t even know he had with his constant chest-puffing and self-importance.</p><p>“Your Highness, you left without informing us.”</p><p>His tone is accusatory and Cross bristles at it. That’s no way to be speaking to a prince. But the royal in question is as altruistic as always, simply smiling at the knight.</p><p>“No harm done. I was merely appreciating the gardens.” Prince Dream gestures past the arches to the flowers and hedges outside, the beautiful daylight casting them in a healthy glow. “And then I ran into Sir Cross and enjoyed a small dialogue with him.”</p><p>The formal intonation returns to the prince’s words, and Cross finds himself missing his earlier ease.</p><p>“Sir <em>Cross </em>should be returning to his chambers, as per the instruction of Commander Othri.”</p><p>Cross does his best to contain the urge to spit something caustic to Jere at his remark. It wouldn’t do to disgrace himself in front of the prince. So instead, Cross huffs an indifferent laugh, inclines his head at the knights and then catches Prince Dream’s eye once more. When the prince is fully facing him, Cross bows deeply.</p><p>“If you will excuse me, Your Highness.”</p><p>“Yes, of course,” Prince Dream says, “I hope to see you again, Sir Cross.”</p><p>It’s incredibly difficult not to read into that statement. He knows though, that the prince is simply being polite. He’s kind and soft-hearted; a gentle soul, through and through. Cross reminds himself of this as he straightens and looks at the prince’s warm smile and lingering gaze. He returns a grin of his own, soul pounding in his chest.</p><p>And before Jere's scowling face can ruin the moment, Cross walks away, continuing on down the path.</p><p>He walks, and walks, all along the garden trail and into the castle proper, winding down the main corridor. He walks until he comes to the first branching path, where he takes a sharp right turn and immediately leans against a wall to catch his breath, out of sight of anyone who may be passing by. The other side is a dead end, an elaborate hall of paintings and gilded busts, but no doors to be seen. He won't be interrupted.</p><p>Cross presses a hand to his chest, soul thumping fast and face warm.</p><p>He spoke to Prince Dream.</p><p>He <em>spoke </em>to him, face-to-face.</p><p>Cross can scarcely believe it, his face breaking out into a grin so wide it feels as if his face may split in two. After months and months of training, of working towards this, of finding something of value, something to truly <em>work</em> for in this drudgery his father assigned to him, he <em>finally </em>spoke to the prince. For a morning that started so terribly, things are certainly looking up.</p><p>“There you are,” a voice calls from his right, a playful, teasing lilt to it. Cross quickly straightens.</p><p>“What took you so…” A shock of gold is the first thing Cross spots emerging from the shadows just past the paintings; a crown cradling a crescent moon at the center of two twining vines on either side. Cross registers the monster as Prince Nightmare seconds later. “Oh. It’s you.”</p><p>It’s a surprise in two parts. The first is that, much like Prince Dream before him, Prince Nightmare seems to recognise Cross. Whether it’s solely from the embarrassment this morning or something further, Cross can’t rightly tell. Especially distracted as he is by the second part—the Crown Prince’s smile.</p><p>It’s strange, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Prince Nightmare smile—not truly. And yet, before he noticed Cross standing by, there was a genuine cheer to his expression. A happiness Cross has never seen grace him, whether in court or during informal events. It makes him look younger, more at ease. Like this, he truly appears to be every part the twin of Prince Dream, alike in both manner and appearance.</p><p>Of course, the instant the Crown Prince truly sees him, the softness dissipates like smoke, a shutter closing down over the prince’s joy.</p><p>“What business do you have here?” Prince Nightmare demands.</p><p>“None, Your Highness,” Cross says, bowing, “I was only catching my breath.”</p><p>“Ran all the way here, did you?” The prince tilts his chin up at him, imperious. “So eager to escape your appalling earlier performance?”</p><p>Cross’ face burns, still bowed, his prior embarrassment returning in full force. He doesn’t know quite what to say. He doesn’t want to upset the Crown Prince, but he doesn’t want to be branded spineless either. He's already stood out as a inattentive trainee; he needs to remake his image. Otherwise he’ll never make either of the Princes’ personal guard.</p><p>“No, Lord Prince. I fear no amount of running will distance me from such a dreadful display. I will simply have to come back with twice the drive tomorrow.”</p><p>“Hmm,” muses the haughty royal. Sweat breaks out over the back of Cross’ neck as Prince Nightmare scrutinizes him. For so long, all he's wanted it to be seen by the princes. Now, with the heavy gaze of royalty beating down on him, Cross feels stripped bare.</p><p>“Rise,” the Crown Prince says, and finally Cross raises his head to look up at him. Violet eyelights glare back at him, inscrutable. The prince's expression is frighteningly impassive. “If you’re as clever as your words suggest, you’ll move along back to your quarters.”</p><p>“Yes, Your Highness.”</p><p>He adds an almost hasty— “And make no mention of our encounter here. To anyone.”</p><p>It seems a strange request, but Cross dips his head in another quick bow. He's in no hurry to share this experience with anyone. Who would he even tell? “Of course, Lord Heir.”</p><p>“Good,” the prince nods, then waves his hand. “Be gone, then.”</p><p>This time, the dismissal comes as a relief. Cross wastes no time in retreating, turning back into the main corridor.</p><p>As he does, he thinks on the differences between the two royals he’s bound to serve. It’s no wonder the Crown Prince is so unfavoured among the people. Unlike Prince Dream, the elder twin is all jagged angles and slumbering rage. It’s hard to approach him, and harder still to feel any sort of softness for a man who would flay you with words alone.</p><p>While Cross is new to the Kingdom and to the castle itself, he’s still overheard enough whispering among the servants and even the knights themselves to know that many would rather Prince Dream take charge. They serve Prince Nightmare with a disgruntled sense of duty, but it doesn't compare to the devotion they show his twin. They debate amongst themselves, measuring the brothers' against each other, weighing their right to the throne and their presumed capabilities to rule. Cross doesn't know why they bother when it always ends with Prince Dream on top.</p><p>It’s never going to happen of course—Queen Nim has been clear from the start about which of her sons she is priming to succeed her—but it doesn’t stop the conjecture all the same.</p><p>Still, it’s a wonder that the two twins can be so very different from one other. One brother so beloved and the other a veritable outcast among the very monsters meant to serve him.</p><p>Cross thinks on it all the way back to his chamber, going over the day’s events over and over.</p><p>It takes him until he closes his doors behind him and collapse onto his bed to frown. As his thought catch up with him, the adrenaline of the encounter wearing off, he starts to question and wonder. Because—</p><p>When the expanse to his right had been a dead-end, no doors in sight and only shadows for company… how had Prince Nightmare appeared beside him in the first place?</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Commander 'Othri' is just RG'03' AKA <a href="https://undertale.fandom.com/wiki/Cut_Enemies#RG_03_and_RG_04">a cut enemy from Undertale</a> that I repurposed to use for this fic. 😌👏</p><p>And Jere ofc is just '<a href="https://undertale.fandom.com/wiki/Jerry">Jerry</a>' but spelt... more medieval 😂😂</p><p>Neither of those two bear any strict resemblance to their original counterparts from UT, except in that Jere is annoying as fuck and Othri is a mantis.</p><p><b>ANYWAYS!!</b> NO KIDNAPPING AND MURDER ATTEMPTS JUST YET BUT... WE'LL GET THERE... &gt;;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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